Memoirs
by Jillessa Heronstairs
Summary: "Sometimes you will never know the value of a moment until it becomes a memory." The moments we remember tell our story, filled with happiness, pain, sadness, and laughter. In our hearts and minds, they can never be replaced.


**Memoirs of a Young, Blue Eyed Boy**

"Jem," Will complained, one hand pushing his thick black hair up and out of his eyes, as the was dragged forward by the other boy. "Where are we going? Where are you taking me?"

"We're getting out of here today," Jem replied, his thin hand around Will's wrist in a death grip. He pushed the door of the Institute open and frowned as the dark sky above threatened to rain on his plans.

"It's going to rain," Will said, tugging his hand from Jem's grip. He crossed his arms across his chest and refused to move from the doorway. "I don't want to go anywhere today."

It was November 10th, and both Will and Jem knew it.

But Jem was determined to get Will's mind off of what sorrows seemed to come over him on the specific day each year. That's what parabatai were for, right?

"I was going to go sightseeing…" Jem started to say, looking up at the sky. It didn't look like it was sure to rain, but with London's weather, one could never be sure. "But it's no fun to go all by myself."

Will blinked, the tension in his crossed arms relaxing slightly. "Well… I guess we could go for a little while, and then come back if the weather gets bad."

"Come on!" he called, turning and running down the steps to the front gate. "Last one to the gate has to touch the ducks!"

Will had to smile. He ran down the steps, chasing after his friend.

* * *

"Agatha, you've outdone yourself," Charlotte smiled, getting herself a scoop of mashed potatoes as the bowl was passed around the table. "Everything looks absolutely delicious. Even Henry here is enjoying the food."

"Dear, I always do," Henry said sheepishly, having for once put his inventions to the side while eating dinner. He took a generous helping of chicken and stuffing. "I'm sorry if I give you the impression that I don't."

"Ugh, but it's potatoes," Will said, frowning as the bowl of mashed potatoes reached him. "I think I've had enough of those to feed the entire Clave when I was little." He shook his head, hair falling into his eyes. "Irish cooks, you know…"

"Well, I like potatoes," Jem piped up, getting a scoop for himself. "We always used to have lots of rice in Shanghai. Potatoes are interesting."

"Thank you, Agatha," Charlotte laughed, purposefully ignoring Will's comments, as the cook placed the last of the dishes on the table, and left the room.

"But you know what potatoes are good for?" Will asked, his eyes lighting up. A spoon lay next to his plate, and he grabbed it, scooping up mashed potatoes from Jem's plate. He set it against the table and took aim at Jessamine. "Three... Two… One!"

* * *

"Will, please pay attention," Charlotte sighed, taking the seraph blade from him and slipping it into her belt. "We don't need anymore inappropriate drawings engraved into this desk. "Now, which is thought to be the most numerous type of demon?"

"I don't know, Shax?" he groaned, sliding down in his seat. Jem sat patiently beside him, writing down his daily assignment in his journal. "Why do we have to learn all this demon trivia stuff? It's a bore."

"It's part of your training of the history of Shadowhunters," she replied. He was only thirteen, and she couldn't ever get too angry at him. "Look at Jem. Don't you want to do as well as he is doing?"

"No, Jem is a try hard," Will replied, elbowing his parabatai in the shoulder, effectively causing him to make a misplaced line across his paper.

"Aww, Will," Jem sighed, unaffected for the most part. He continued to write, then handed the paper to Charlotte, who hummed with approval.

"Let's just imagine that his assignment counts for both of us," Will said, grabbing Jem's arm and hauling him up. "Can we go do actual training now?" he asked, starting away from the table.

Charlotte didn't have the heart to argue. "Go ahead," she conceded, waving them away with a smile.

* * *

Will sat in the library, curled up in one of the large armchairs. A book was spread open across his lap and he flipped through the pages as he read. He heard Jem outside in the halls, calling his name, and figured his search would eventually lead him into the rarely used library.

The door opened, and light from the hallway lit up the room. "Oh, there you are. I thought you might have went out or something," Jem smiled with relief, closing the door and walking over. He leaned over the back of the chair, looking down at the book. He read a few lines.

"Dreadful literature, isn't that?" he grimaced. "Three lines in and they're already putting someone to death!"

"All the stories are true," Will grinned, flipping the page. "He had a little too much fun in the towns, and he got in trouble for it. Who knows? I could be next."

"I would hope not. You would be proving Gabriel and his father correct."

"Don't worry. I hide it well." A smirk crossed his lips. "And it's not like none of us expect that Benedict doesn't do his share of getting around."

* * *

Jem coughed, the force racking his thin frame, before he sunk back down into the bed.

Will paled, sitting with his hands pressed together in his lap as the silent brother examined his sick friend. They had tried to remove him from the room, but he had kicked and screamed and complained so much that they had had no other choice than to let him stay.

 _He will be okay. He just needs rest for his body to recover._

Brother Enoch's words echoed through his ears. He stayed silent, looking at Jem in worry. He barely noticed the brother leaving the room, his work there done. There was nothing else he could do to help.

Now all they could do was wait and hope that Jem would make a full recovery.

Will practically threw himself out of the chair when Jem opened his eyes slightly. "Will," he whispered, his usual strength missing from his voice. "You do not have to stay here. I think that I will be okay."

"Nonsense," came the reply, and in the darkness of the room, Jem could hear the stubbornness in Will's voice, an underlying strictness. It was a tone he was so used to hearing. "Byddaf bob amser yn yma i chi, brawd."

 _I will always be here for you, brother._

* * *

 **Do you guys have any requests for upcoming chapters? Each is going to focus around a specific character or pairing, during a certain time period in their life. So leave me suggestions and requests! Thanks!**

 **~Jillessa Heronstairs~**


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